


Whatever Hell He Came From

by Bloomquist



Series: Billdip Smut Week 2 [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Billdip Smut Week, Consensual Non-Consent, Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloomquist/pseuds/Bloomquist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Dipper should have found a better place to hide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Hell He Came From

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution for Billdip Smut Week Day 2: Edgeplay! Follow me @bloomquistarts on Tumblr for more!

The room is cold, damp, and illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through a small square window. Outside, Dipper can hear the nighttime noises of the forest, a mixture of the nocturnal creatures and the shuffling of somebody from outside.

His breath quickens when he hears the door handle jiggle. The lock is old, rusted, and he doesn’t expect it to hold for long. He counts precious moments and takes calming breaths with each one.

When the door slams open, he draws in a final, deep, sharp breath and holds it, folds his body over himself, and covers his nose and mouth with a hand. The silhouette in the doorway stops, blocking his only exit. It waits, scans the darkness for signs of movement and listens. Dipper prays it will leave before he runs out of breath.

It doesn’t. He regretfully releases a heavy sob and tries to catch his breath as he scrambles upright. The figure turns toward him. He sidles along the wall with panicked steps, trying to gauge which way to run as it approaches, but a glint in the moonlight stops him dead in his tracks.

A gun – He has a gun. Even if Dipper tries to escape, he’d only be shot instead.

“Please,” the brunet whimpers. He hates the way his voice is trembling. He presses himself all the way to the wood of the wall, wishing he could just slip through it, slip away into the forest, anything. He should have never tried to hide here. What made him think he could hide here?

The figure closes the last couple of steps and presses against him, chest to chest, hips to hips. The gun comes up, presses into the soft spot under his chin. The cold metal makes him shudder. A small noise escapes his throat. He swallows the lump and tries again. “Please, anything – Please don’t-”

“Don’t what?” the figure, a man, growls back mirthfully. The voice sends electricity down Dipper’s spine.

“I’ll do anything,” he whispers back. He looks the other in the eyes, pleading to any leftover sense of morality, but he knows it’s all long gone. The cold glare he receives back makes him drop his eyes to the figure’s set jaw.

The appeal doesn’t get through to him. “Get down on your knees.” he orders.

Dipper pales and a fresh sob escapes his chest against his will. “No, I can’t, please-”

“Get down and open your mouth.”

“Ple-”

“Down!”

The order this time comes with a tight hand in his hair and a rough shove. His knees clatter painfully to the floor and the gun repositions itself to his forehead, forcing him to look up. He can’t bring himself to keep his mouth closed, too afraid of the consequences of resisting.

The man’s hand removes itself from his hair and Dipper closes his eyes; Prays to a hundred gods he doesn’t believe in. There’s the sound of shuffling, and a zipper, and then something hot and hard slides across his lips, smearing them with bitter liquid.

“Suck me.” the man orders, and the last of Dipper’s fight leaves him. He opens his mouth compliantly. Maybe if he can do this, maybe he’ll leave Mabel be. Maybe if he can get the man off, he’ll go back to whatever hell he came from.

The cock that intrudes his mouth practically stretches his jaw out of place. He can’t even find room to wrap his lips around his teeth, but the man doesn’t seem to care. He thrusts shallowly at first, working his way deeper the more spit slicked he becomes. It hits the back of his throat, and Dipper gags, but not even that stops him. He pins Dipper’s head against the wall and suddenly he’s in Dipper’s throat, suffocating him, making his throat convulse, his eyes water. He scrabbles and pounds at the man’s thighs, but he only barely moves, barely creates the friction that’s constantly reminding his body something is jammed where it shouldn’t be. Tears stream down his face, and soon the burning need for oxygen halts his struggles altogether.

His drifting mind honestly wonders if he’s going to die here, asphyxiated on a fucking cock in the middle of the fucking forest.

A second later, his airway is suddenly clear. Dipper doesn’t question it – He draws in a deep breath and doubles over, panting. He doesn’t know which way gravity is pulling him, it just feels like the wrong way, and he collapses onto his side onto the wooden floor, coughing and wheezing. His head hits painfully, but he’s too busy reveling in the sweet existence of oxygen.

The man doesn’t wait for him to finish recovering. He goes immediately for Dipper’s pants, unbuttons and unzips them, pulls them down around his ankles. He shivers at the cold air hitting his warm legs. He shivers harder when a fist clamps around his hard cock.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard?

The man groans in approval and rolls Dipper onto his stomach, still cupping his erection with one hand.

The other is clearly still on the gun, the gun that trails up the curve of his ass, into the crevice, and then upwards, lifting his shirt. His breath hitches when it settles between his shoulder blades and digs in. “Stay down,” the man orders.

Dipper does, even as the spit slicked cock slips down to claim him, though he shakes violently, whimpers and weeps. He distinctly feels the moment the head catches the rim of his ass...and stops.

It’s the longest minute he’s ever endured. It takes everything in his power not to try and escape, push back, beg for his life, beg to be fucked. His cock twitches against his stomach, and in that moment the man pushes inside of him in one hard, fluid thrust.

Dipper moans, and he can’t bite it back anymore. “Fuck!” he rasps, “Fuck, Bill!”

A titter erupts from behind him.

Bill keeps thrusting hard into Dipper’s ass, but the character is broken, and the gun skids across the floor when Bill discards it. The hand does more useful things, then: It skates up Dipper’s chest to find a hard nipple and pets, grips, and twists, sending a jolt of pleasure through the teen. He lets out another moan of approval and begins to rock his hips back, chasing the build he feels each time Bill hits his prostate with practiced efficiency. 

“Bill, god, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum, don’t stop,” he starts to beg. His head falls backwards and meets Bill’s shoulder as the demon leans forward in the same breath. He stops thrusting and starts grinding, aiming for Dipper’s pleasure, and the teen absolutely loses it.

A hoarse cry escapes him as he cums all over Bill’s hand. His body moves back involuntarily, takes Bill to the hilt and milks him for all he’s worth, and the convulsing muscles drags him under as well, spilling hard inside of him.

It's a few moments before either of them moves, but when it is, it's Dipper. He groans and shifts, nudging his shoulder against Bill. “Get off. You're heavy. I'm having enough trouble breathing as it is.”

A delighted hum comes from Bill, but he rolls off all the same, landing with a thump on the floor next to him. “We gotta do that more often.” he sighs wistfully.

Dipper wrinkles his nose. “I don't think so. You almost killed me. A gun? Seriously?”

To this, Bill shrugs emphatically. “The safety was on! I thought it was a good idea, Pine Tree. Can't blame a demon for trying.”

“Uh, yes I can. Not to mention you nearly suffocated me with your fucking dick.”

“But I didn't, come on, give me credit!”

Dipper pauses.

“it was good, wasn't it?” Bill adds hopefully. His grin glints at Dipper, reflecting the moonlight.

“...It was good,” he says resignedly, “Now come here and cuddle me before I change my mind about you.”

Bill is all too happy to comply.


End file.
